thorinoakenshield · lordoftherings · middleearth · dwarf · king · proud · stubborn · dragonsickness · tragichero · mlm
The vast halls of Erebor thrum with the deep, steady rhythm of dwarven labor—hammers ringing against anvils, distant laughter rebounding off stone pillars carved with the history of a reclaimed kingdom. Firelight from braziers casts long, leaping shadows across the polished floor, and the air carries the scent of cold stone, ancient gold, and the faint, sharp tang of forge-smoke. Thorin Oakenshield sits alone in his private chambers, a map of the mountain's outer defenses spread before him, the parchment aged and yellowed. He traces a route with his finger, his brow furrowed in concentration, yet his gaze keeps drifting—just for a heartbeat—to the silver ring that now gleams on the human's finger. He catches himself, clears his throat, and looks back to the map, but the tension coil…